


Fanget

by Ranunculee, TheCreativeCasseroles



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Imprisonment, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-28 21:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7657705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranunculee/pseuds/Ranunculee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCreativeCasseroles/pseuds/TheCreativeCasseroles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The more Tord tried to move on, the more desperate for forgiveness he got... until one day, he woke up and the idea of outright kidnapping Edd didn't sound like a bad idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baken Rommet

Edd put out three kegs of cola, a few bags of popcorn, and he was ready to go.

Tom and Matt were to come over at his place and they all would have a movie marathon. Although, with all the food in the kitchen, it looked like the man was going to host a straight-up party.

“Ahh, the smell of delicious food, and the sound of Bee Movie 2: This Again being played. This is going to be great!” Edd exclaimed in pure joy. “And the bacon is all nice and crispy too.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

‘That must be them!’ Edd thought.

“Come in! The door’s unlocked!” He called out to his friends. Now that they’re here, food and drinks needed to be served.

The door creaked open, and the couch squeaked under someone’s weight. Edd didn’t hear a greeting, but he had busied himself getting the snacks in order and hadn’t been thinking about it.

“Tom? Is it just you? Did Matt get locked in his closet again because he was looking at his reflection again?” Only Tom could be silent for that long. “He did didn’t he? Ugh. Guess we have to rescue him. Again.” Edd then proceed to mutter how this was the fourth time.

There was a laugh from the living room. It was hollow, somehow, and definitely not Tom’s laugh. Edd froze.

“Ahaha… ah, it’s good to know things haven’t changed.”

“T-Tord?” He gulped, hoping it was his imagination. Or a prank. Or a dream.

The dream one sounds nice.

“Hello… old… friend…” was the last thing Edd heard before blacking out.

* * *

 

The stuffed sheep pressed into Edd’s side as he stirred. The plastic nose was squished uncomfortably into his shoulder. That was going to leave a mark.

Wait, he didn’t own a stuffed sheep.

Edd opened his eyes, all the way this time. The bed felt unfamiliar, and the lights were too cold and bright to be inviting. He noted he was still wearing his hoodie, the green peeking out from under sheets the color of mush.

“Wha?” He muttered out, confused. Just where was he?

The room was a decent size. Not too big nor too small. There was one window to his right, but that was covered with dark red curtains. There was also a wardrobe to his left, right after a bedtable. A plain oak door was right across from the bed Edd was laying in.

The ceiling fan turned slowly.

The walls were a maroon.

Edd was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the door open.

“I see you’re awake, Edd.”

Edd whipped his head to the voice. “Tord…” his voice was barely above a whisper. “Were you watching me sleep?” Nothing had set in yet.

“It would have been bad for you to wake up alone.” Tord’s eyes- eye was blank. A quick look at the bedtable revealed a removed eyepatch that otherwise would have been covering where his empty socket had been stitched shut. It would have been horrifying if Edd had been quite in his right mind.

“I’m fine, really.” That was a lie. There was a dull throb behind his eyes that the fluorescent lights only aggravated. “This is all fine and good, but is Tom going to jump out of the closet? You guys know I hate jumpscares-”

“I should show you around.”

Opening his mouth, and then closing it, Edd decided to go along with it. Worst case scenario, Tom and Matt were playing some kind of off-the-wall prank with a Tord suit; best case scenario, he could have been drinking like it was the end of the world earlier and this was a dream. From the headache and how much Smirnoff Tom had sworn he’d bring, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Hell, the most unlikely thing about that scenario would be that he’d gotten lucky enough to wrestle Tom away from alcohol.

Tord opened the oak door into a dimly lit hallway. Following him, Edd dimly registered that one of the few other doors in the hall appeared to be solid steel, or covered in tinfoil. They passed it, and instead entered a grimy dining area. Whatever had happened to Tord between The Incident and now, it had made him busy enough to have problems finding time to scrub the floor. He opened a drawer and pulled out some papers that Edd couldn’t quite focus on. “Takeout menus. The fridge is also stocked with some basics and cola. I didn’t have time to get ahold of the brand you like, but that is one of the consequences of being on the run.”

When Edd’s eyes had adjusted to the point where he could read the menus, he noticed the addresses had been torn off. “I can’t risk having a stove, because there would be no way for you to leave if a fire broke out.”

Edd became confused at this. This prank was going a little bit too far. If it was a prank at all. (It is a prank, it just has to be.)

“The bathroom is a little further down the hall- by some miracle, I got that soap you were talking about, the kind that smells like bacon.”

It was a little detail that tipped everything over the edge.

“Tord,” Edd whispered.

* * *

 

_“Why is this soap so expensive?” Tord grumbled. “It’s not like it’s made of gold or something.” Tord and Edd were out shopping when they ended up in the soap section. All because the duo smelt bacon._

_“Whatever it’s made of, it definitely smells delicious.”_

_“The label says ‘definitely contains lard.’”_

_“That would do it then.”_

* * *

 

“Yes?” Tord asked, looking at his (ex?)friend.

Edd didn’t know what to say for a moment. All he could do really was to open and close his mouth like a fish gasping for water.

“A-are you pranking me?” He finally managed to get out, mentally cursing the stutter and the crack in his voice.

A dark and humorless chuckle slowly bubbled out of the one eyed man. It slowly grew, and as it became louder, Edd’s hope was diminishing and was being replaced with horror. The laugh suddenly anticlimaxed, and Tord’s face went slack. “Don’t you like it?” he suddenly asked.

“Li-like what?” Edd stuttered out. Damn it.

“Why, your new room, of course.”

“M-my new room?” Edd croaked out.

“Well, if you don’t like it, I’ll give you a new one,” Tord told him as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“No!” Tord’s eyebrow popped up.

“No?” He repeated.

“No, I mean, yes, I mean,” Edd took a deep breath, “take me home.”

A low chuckle passed through Tord’s lips. This couldn’t be good.

“Oh Edd. Sweet, naive Edd. You are home.”

Edd shook his head.

“No. No I’m not,” he paused for a moment, afraid of the other man’s reaction, “my home is an apartment next to Tom’s and Matt’s places.”

Whatever smile that was on Tord’s face fell. He leaned over, covering the cola lover’s mouth with a cold, robotic hand.

“I hate to break it to you, Edd, but you are far from your ‘home’.” Tord’s voice was both as chilling and biting as the prosthetic hand that was clutching Edd’s face.

A small whimper managed to escape. Edd was afraid.

He was also between Tord and the door.

He didn’t have to think- he rushed out the kitchen doorway and bolted for the metallic door down the hall. When he couldn’t find a handle, he took to frantically banging on and scratching the surface. “Get me out of here! Tom, Matt, somebody, this isn’t funny anymore!”

By the time the prosthetic hand went over his mouth again, this time with a damp cloth inside, he’d struck the door so hard he’d bruised his own hands.


	2. La Edd Si Faen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edd scouts out his new home and makes a list. It's not a very eventful chapter but we talk about the cat so it's all cool.

Edd woke up in bed again, significantly less disoriented this time. Although a bit nauseous. Maybe it’s because he’s come out of the sheer shock of the situation, or maybe it’s because Tord used something less strong to knock him out, but either way he jumps out of the foreign bed and beelines for the window.

With as much force he could muster in his frantic state, Edd tore the curtains open and saw that the house he was at was right next to the ocean. And it was night time too. It truly was a beautiful night out, the sea was calm and the sky was filled with stars, so much so that one could see the milky way. The ocean reflected this sight on itself, and it looked a bit like space. But of course, Edd didn’t notice the beauty of nature. He only noticed that he was most definitely not in England due to the fact that England does not have a beach like this. Anywhere.

“Oh, no,” he muttered to himself. He just hopes that the house he’s at isn’t on a deserted island.

Edd shook himself, getting himself back together, and pried at the window. It wouldn’t give, though further inspection proved there wasn’t any kind of lock or paint sealing it shut. No nails either.

Well, that did it. No amount of property damage could sway Edd from getting out. Then the idea of using the bedside table hit him. Grabbing said table, Edd went to break the window open. If there are no exits, make your own as they say.

“Hope Tord doesn’t hear this,” Edd said to himself under his breath, not wanting the Norwegian to catch him.

He practically threw himself at the window, with the table in front of him. This proved to be a bad idea, as while the glass shattered with a loud CRUNCH, the table didn’t break through it and halted on impact, leaving a good bit of Edd’s shoulder sore.

“FUCK!” Edd yelled. He then proceeded to give out a short scream filled with pain and disappointment.

The window wasn’t a window at all. It was essentially a TV screen in the shape of a window. The outside was a ruse, and Edd still had no idea where he truly was.

“God damn it,” he weakly swore, “god fucking damn it all.”

When he got right down to it, his shoulder was probably dislocated. On one hand, he didn’t want to try to fix it himself and potentially fuck up and die or something. On the other hand, the thought of Tord touching or even getting near him wasn’t very appealing.

Either way, Edd was fucked.

While contemplating the broken not-a-window, it occurred to him that Tord had never fully showed him around.

He’d found paper and pencils in the remains of the table’s drawer. The list he’d compiled minutes later was brief and shaky.

 _Pros:_  
_-might find more escape routes_  
 _-maybe other people live with Tord who can be reasoned with_

_Cons:_   
_-possibly having to speak to Tord_

Edd thought for a second, then crossed that item off, and added another to “pros.”

_-possibly reason with Tord_

Crazy or not, Tord was still his friend, and that counted for something. Probably.

There it was, in plain English. It was time to leave the room and face Tord.

.  
.  
.

Tord had left the fucking house. That anxiety had been for nothing.

Edd searched the house up and down, continuing to compile a list of observations.

One. The steel door was most likely the exit, as it was the only locked door. He hadn’t noticed the first time seeing it, but there was a slot for a keycard next to it. Figures.

Two. There was a door in the hall labeled “the butt room.” But it was locked. Edd could only briefly imagine what could possibly be in there before having to exorcise the image of Tord naked, on a bed with a rose in his teeth from his mind. No thanks.

Three. There was another locked door, this one unlabeled. There was a foul stench coming from it thinly veiled by some kind of air freshener. It definitely didn’t smell like that when he’d initially woken up. Edd thought himself lucky that the ventilation was surprisingly good in a venue without windows.

Four. The kitchen did indeed have some basics and cola in there- and of course, Tord had gone and bought Sierra Mist, that monster. Edd glared at the piss cola, but eventually gave in to soft drink withdrawal and choked it down. Going through the drawers a second time, Edd realized-

Five. There weren’t any knives in there.

Tord staying away from knives for his own sake was just outlandish. However, considering that he was keeping a kidnapping victim in there, it was... somewhat plausible.

 _‘Hold up,’_ he thought, making his way back to the room he’d woken up in.

Six. Searching the drawers produced strong evidence that Tord lived here too, from the staggering amount of red hoodies, sweaters, and for some reason, blue trench coats. There were green hoodies in equal measure- but no belts. No pain medicine in the bathroom, either, despite Tord’s mangled condition.

What a hypocrite; kidnaps his friend and then turns around and tries to care about his wellbeing. After destroying their old house, almost killing a roommate/friend, actually killing a neighbor, and then leaving after being shot by a harpoon. Maybe Tord really is off his rocker.

Seven. Edd really needs to put his arm back into his socket. But he didn’t know how to do that, so he most likely would have to wait for Tord to come back.

Ugh. Today (is it considered today? Or was today yesterday?) is not a good day.

Eight. There was no tv. The only thing that resembled one was broken. How on Earth was Edd going to entertain himself if there was no tv? He certainly wasn’t going to draw, his body was shaking as it is, and whatever was going to be created would look like a chihuahua with bad separation anxiety made it. No thanks. Again.

What was he going to do?

It was in that moment that Edd came to a horrible thought.

“Ringo,” he breathed with startling realization. Ringo, Edd’s beautiful pet cat. Was he alright? Did Tord do something to him? Or was Ringo hiding while he was kidnapped? Edd didn’t know, but he was hoping beyond hope that his cat was okay.

 _‘Maybe he’s being taken care of by Tom,’_ Edd thought while trying to calm himself down. _‘Yeah. He’s being taken care of by Tom while Matt is trying and failing to get some cat food or something.’_

Those thoughts were certainly a start.

Going over the house again, Edd jiggled the doorknob for "the butt room" and realized it was turning all the way, but not opening. It was jammed, not locked. It didn’t feel like anything was blocking it, so if he just hit the door hard enough he could probably get it open.

Not willing to repeat his mistake and dislocate his good shoulder, Edd didn’t battery ram it open, instead just backing up as far as he could in the hallway and slamming it with his uninjured side.

Edd walked into the butt room.

Otherwise known as the bowels of hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T WORRY THERE'S NOTHING SEXUAL IN THE BUTT ROOM, DESPITE WHAT EDD'S THINKING. ALSO RINGO'S PROBABLY OKAY. PROBABLY.

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, TheCreativeCasseroles and I wrote this on a whim. I'm personally hoping we can draw it out to a five-chapter thing, but it's not certain right now. Also, Casseroles, if you're reading this, can you dig up the fanart that we based this off? I'd really appreciate it.


End file.
